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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553922">we are worth the stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackJacketsandPens/pseuds/BlackJacketsandPens'>BlackJacketsandPens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, because this is a good ship and i love my kids, cleaning them up to Actually Share Them, i wrote these 5 years ago on my rp blog, local idiots are idiots at each other more at 11, nero deserves good things in his life damn it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:40:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackJacketsandPens/pseuds/BlackJacketsandPens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warrior of Light finds a certain wayward engineer running around in the Hinterlands, and, well. Things happen. None of them really expected, either.</p><p>(Nero/WoL fic; set during/around 3.1.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nero tol Scaeva/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sharlayan was abandoned. All that was left were empty buildings and overgrown streets, broken streetlamps and crumbling walls. But it was…nice. Quiet, and peaceful. There was an aura of calm about the ruins of the city, near the overgrown Arboretum, even near the locked-up library (well, not quite locked, but not safe enough to go peruse the shelves), even around the Arkhitekton with all the goblins and their tech.</p><p>And she liked it. It had fast become her favorite place to go when she needed peace and solitude; there were too many memories at St. Adama’s, and the Hovel in La Noscea was too far out of her way these days. She either picked a building in the Answering Quarter to curl up by, or in, or sat in one of their enclosed gardens, or found her way to the Quickspill Delta, enjoying the area by Matoya’s cave, all flowers and burbling water.</p><p>She paused on today’s walk down the streets by the Arboretum, shielding her eyes against the soft rain that was falling; it was midafternoon, and the sky was grey and clouded, a slight fog in the air making the rain even more eerie. She felt almost as if she were in a faerieland, another world. But she heard something, and that’s what made her stop.</p><p>A splash. Splashes. Quick, fast, like someone running in water. A louder splash – they tripped. A slimy smacking noise – morbol. She turned and moved swiftly to the source of the sound, leaping over roots and drawing her daggers as she moved.</p><p>The scene came into view through the fog just as the morbol vomited forth a gust of its poisonous breath, knocking the figure down with a final splash as their back hit the water. She didn’t stop moving, leaping into the air to bring  both daggers straight down into the creature’s head, flipping off just as it died. She sheathed daggers and hurried to the side of the stranger, who was curled up in the water and retching violently. She knew morbol venom was bad, and the greater ones here in the Hinterlands were known to be even more poisonous. </p><p>The man was a mess, she noticed. Splattered in mud and oil, she realized with a start he had come from the direction of Alexander. His clothes were dirty and torn, and she saw with some dismay he had open wounds under some of the rips, which had were red and inflamed; some of the morbol’s gas must have gotten into them. She leaned over, gingerly putting her hands on his shoulders to pull him up to a sitting position, struggling to do so as he was all dead weight, alternating between horrible, dry, retching coughs and actually vomiting – though his stomach must have been empty, for all that was coming up was bile.</p><p>His eyes were screwed shut, the area around them raw and inflamed and tears streaking his face along with the rest of the mixture of blood, mud, and bile. She could tell he had blond hair, wavy and soaking wet, shaggy and sticking to his dirty cheeks and his neck. He looked like he needed a shave, too, from what she could see.</p><p>But there was no time to be thinking about that, she admonished herself. He was sick, badly poisoned on top of being injured, and she stood, managing to haul him to his feet. “Come on,” she urged. “There’s a settlement close by. We can get you help there.”</p><p>He didn’t answer, which made sense, and she struggled to get him out of the pond around the Arboretum, as he could barely walk. "Akuma!” she called. <em>“Kite!” </em></p><p>The black chocobo trotted up in a minute’s time, and she hauled the man up onto his back. “Idyllshire,” she told the bird. <em>“Itte! Hayaku!”</em></p><p>She was glad she’d been able to train this bird, too, to respond to Doman commands, as the bird bolted off, with her right behind him. She grabbed his reins as they got to the Frontgate, and hurried the pair in, already calling for the adventurers there to help her. A pair of them got to her first, and helped her remove the still-coughing man from the chocobo. A smack on his flank sent him to where the rest of the adventurers’ birds were kept, and she followed the hunters to their makeshift infirmary, explaining what had happened as far as she had known, and the other injuries she’d seen.</p><p>They listened, and nodded, but made her stay outside when they brought him in; to avoid contamination, they said, but she didn’t really mind. She simply headed to the tinker to get her knives cleaned, and the trader to buy a sandwich; she nibbled on it absently as she waited for any news of the stranger she rescued – she was worried, of course.</p><p>It was two bells, two sandwiches and a bottle of apple juice later when one of the hunters approached her, his face solemn. He didn’t say anything, just motioned for her to come, and she followed, concerned – was he alright? She had been sure they’d have antidote here, given how close they were to the morbol den.</p><p>The door to the infirmary swung open, and the hunter turned to her. “Yer man’s ‘ere,” he said, his brow furrowed. “We don’t discriminate 'ere, y'know, Alan; we take anyone what comes through without question, no matter who they are, but…this'un’s somethin’ else. 'E’s yer responsibility now, lass, so ye keep an eye on 'im, right?” He told her, and left her blinking after him in confusion, before she stepped over to the bed.</p><p>And froze– she knew what he’d meant, now. But at the same time, it wasn’t something to worry about; she knew the man.</p><p>“…Nero,” she said quietly, watching the Garlean sleep. He was shirtless, his chest and arms bandaged tightly and his face still a bit raw from the poison. They’d cleaned him off, and his hair was dry, but it was still longer than it had been, loose from its usual combed-back style and wavier than she remembered. His beard was fuller, too, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.</p><p>“Nero?” She repeated, and his eyes flickered open, wincing and squeezing them shut – she could see they were unfocused, the whites red and irritated.</p><p>He blinked a few times, before managing to look at her properly. “…You’re…” He murmured.  "Who…?“</p><p>"What do you– oh. Oh!” She blinked, startled. “That’s right…” The last time he’d seen her was at the Tower, when she’d rescued him. She’d been a Miqo'te, then. He didn’t recognize her. “It’s me,” she told him. “Alan. Alan Shinui.” She paused, and then smiled slightly. “One of your eikon-slayers.”</p><p>He blinked slowly. “…Alan,” he repeated. “I...right, I know-- your eyes…” She tried not to wince at that, but it was true enough; her unique eyes, a uniform opalescent white without pupils to speak of, were...something that hadn’t changed, no matter her form. “You…why are you an Au Ra...?” She wasn’t surprised that he knew what she was, at least; Garlemald had taken over Doma, after all. They would know.</p><p>“I was always an Au Ra,” she told him, shaking her head. “I hid my true race when I came to Eorzea; the potion I was given wore off, though, so here I am now.”</p><p>“Mm…” He murmured. “And…you saved me again.”</p><p>She sighed. “I did. What in the world were you doing out there, anyway?” She asked. “Did you try to get into Alexander? Were you looking for Cid-<em>san</em>? He’s not here right now; he had to go back to Ishgard to continue work on the Protector.” She frowned. “You look terrible. Are you well?”</p><p>He laughed, and she winced to hear it. It was a bitter sound, strained and exhausted, and…there was an edge she couldn’t place. </p><p>That was the only thing she got out of him, though; he claimed to be tired, wanting to rest, and she obliged, leaving him be and promising the hunters he would be no problem – telling them he was a friend of Master Garlond’s helped a great deal.</p><p>She had to leave that night for La Noscea, as Oboro had called her for some assistance, and only managed to return to Idyllshire three days later. When she arrived, the hunters pulled her aside to express their worry over their guest – her guest, the Garlean.</p><p>She listened in increasing alarm as she was told he hadn’t eaten in days, not since he’d arrived. All he’d seemed to want to do is sleep, and even then it was more simply lying in his bed staring at the wall than anything else. She promised she’d visit him immediately and hurried off, biting her lip. That didn’t sound like the man she knew, the passionate and confident engineer she remembered from Praetorium, from the Tower.</p><p>She stepped into his room, mouth open – and froze.</p><p>He was gone.</p><p>She turned around, tearing out of the building and down the streets, knowing exactly where he’d gone, emotion blazing in her cheeks. What was he thinking!? He was in no shape to go anywhere! He’d just been poisoned, badly, and even besides that he was injured. What was he thinking?!</p><p>She tore out the Frontgate and through the Answering Quarter, footsteps pounding on the pavement until she got to the delta, before realizing he wasn't there. She swore in Doman, turning around to run back – he must have figured out the entrance was on the other side. She tore back to Idyllshire, swinging around and running out the Backgate, dashing down the steps and finally having to nearly collapse when she reached the Makers’ Quarter proper, out of breath.</p><p>“Where are you?” She snarled under her breath, only to get her answer with a small explosion. She tore off in the direction of the sound, only to stumble to a halt as she saw the wayward Garlean standing in the middle of the street, clutching a goblin rifle in both hands and breathing heavily, standing over a smoking vangob. He was still shirtless, the bandages stained pink in some places and dark in others, and he was bent over double, trying to stay on his feet. He was in stolen pants and boots, she noticed, but then she was too angry to notice much else, and she stormed up to him.</p><p>“Nero!” She yelled, opalescent eyes blazing like stars. “What in the name of the Twelve and all the kami are you <em>doing?!</em>”</p><p>He froze, and whipped around, gun coming up – only to stop and relax slightly, letting the weapon fall to the ground with a clatter. He was ashy grey, she noticed, and his eyes still rimmed with inflamed skin. His hair and beard had not been tamed, and his eyes seemed somewhat hollow. But his face was set, and he glared at her.</p><p>“What the blazes does it <em>matter</em> what I’m doing?” He snapped. “You’re not my keeper!”</p><p>She looked murderous. “I might as well be, if when I turn my back for a moment you’re trying to enter a damned <em>primal</em> three days after you nearly <em>died!”</em> She snarled. “Not to mention you haven’t been eating, and you’re injured– what are you thinking?! I thought you were intelligent!”</p><p>“I’m fine!” He snarled back. “I don’t need anyone concerning themselves over me! I don’t want it, either!”</p><p>“Well, your wants and needs are irrelevant!” She snapped. “You’re injured, you’re in no shape to be in the wilds, and you are coming back with me to Idyllshire right now if I have to knock you out and drag you! Don’t think I won’t!”</p><p>Nero’s eyes flashed, and he drew himself up to his full height – a fulm or more taller than her, she noted with some distant wariness. “Oh, so <em>now </em>you care, do you?!” He snarled, grinning a vicious, bitter grin. “You! <em>You</em>, of all bloody people, claim to care! Why do I disbelieve you? Oh, wait!” He snapped. “You’re Eorzean! Better, you’re <em>Doman!</em> You have less than any reason to give a damn, just like every other bloody person in this godsforsaken land! You all hate us! <em>Me!”</em> He shook his head. “You have every reason to want me dead! Why in the hells are you here trying to keep me alive?! <em>Me!</em> Me, the bloody– the bloody <em>failure </em>of an engineer, who set off to find a new path and only found out he was <em>completely lost!”</em></p><p>She blinked, anger hitting a stumbling block. “What?” She asked, confused. “I don’t– what?”</p><p>He stopped, blinking, and then laughed bitterly. “Bloody hells,” he muttered, before slumping slightly, grinning humorlessly. “I miscalculated,” he told her. “All my grand plans, finding a new path, all the endless possibilities? I can’t do a damned thing. I don’t belong here. I’m not Eorzean, I never will be. I can’t– I can’t go into a city-state, I can’t enter a settlement, hells, I can’t even buy bloody <em>food</em>, because I have no gil and no way to make any! I barely got <em>this</em> far in one piece!” He shook his head again, humorless smile growing. “I’m an outsider, and I don’t even-- I wake up half the time not even sure I’m not still in the Void!” He gestured widely. “What do I have left?! I’m a washed-up has-been soldier, who can’t even make a new start for himself in a world he’s got only one foot in! What do I have left but to snatch at any opportunity I can find, even if it gets me killed?!”</p><p>She stared at him a moment, and was stunned to find a rare emotion bubbling up in her chest – well, not entirely, for she only now realized it had been there since she saw his empty room, but now it hit her like a golem. Rage.</p><p>“And you think you’re the only person who’s felt that way?!” She found herself shouting. “How <em>dare </em>you assume you’re the only man who’s ever felt like they don’t belong, like there’s nothing for them in the place they’ve found themselves in, like they won’t and can’t ever really fit in anywhere!” She was shaking, she realized distantly, and her hands hurt with how tightly they were clenched into fists. “You don’t know <em>anything</em>, if you think you’re the only one!”</p><p>She shook her head, hard enough to make her temples throb, and glared at him, eyes blazing and breath coming sharply. “I was an outcast! A pariah! I came into this world at the price of my mother’s life, and with<em> these eyes!</em> The only reason my father didn’t kill me as soon as I was born was because he thought that would bring the tribe <em>worse </em>luck!” She laughed bitterly. “I wasn’t even allowed to use my tribe’s<em> name!</em> I was ignored at best, pushed around and spit on at worst! I was their scapegoat, their cursed child, their ill omen! Daughter of Death, they called me! I-- I <em>barely </em>survived my childhood!”</p><p>She choked off, shaking her head. “And even when I ran away, I would have died then if I hadn’t found my way to Doma! And even in Doma, I didn’t belong! I wasn’t a native, I wasn’t Raen, I had no family, no traditions and legacy to pass down! They accepted me, they let me live there and trained me, but I never belonged, I never fit in!” She laughed shakily. “Even here, even now, I still don’t fit in! Maybe I do, but I can’t tell! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel like I belong; I’m so used to being an outcast, I wouldn’t recognize when I’m not one any longer!”</p><p>She pointed at him accusingly, knowing there were tears in her eyes but not caring. “You think you’re the only one who feels like they don’t belong?! Like they don’t have a place?! How dare you assume! How–”</p><p>She broke off, covering her mouth with a sob and sinking to the ground, face hot with embarrassment even as tears started to trickle down her face. “<em>Kami</em>,” she hissed. “I’m– I’m supposed to be t-taking you back to Idyllshire, not– not–”</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut, and was startled a moment later to find hands on her shoulders, and opened them to see Nero crouched in front of her, his expression unreadable.</p><p>“…How are you still sane?” He asked, but there was no sarcasm in his voice. “How are you anywhere <em>near</em> as put together as you are?” He searched her face, and his hands tightened. “How did you do it? How did you– how?” His voice cracked slightly, his mask slipping, and she could see pleading in his eyes, as if he was all begging for an answer.</p><p>She smiled weakly, shaking her head. “I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m…not. I haven’t been, not for a long time. I act like it most of the time, but it’s only because I have to keep going. I have to. I...” She trailed off, choking on words, and shook her head. “I-- I failed someone, once. To-- to protect them. Someone I…” She bit her lip. “I thought...maybe I could make up for it. Find something to…” She laughed, not quite bitter, but there was no humor in it. “I…I’m still looking. I t-tried to protect the Sultana, a-and I failed…I…people keep dying. People I’m supposed to protect, p-people protecting me.” She shook her head. “I’m not together. I’m barely hanging on. I’ve been barely hanging on since the day I lost that person… All I can do is keep moving forward and– and hope that one day I can be proud of myself again…one day I can feel like I’m worth something.”</p><p>She laughed shakily, sniffling. “I-I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she told him. “I’ve never told anyone before…I don’t– I don’t know…I’m supposed to be taking c-care of you, and here I am crying like a-a child.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, startling them both. “I– I’m sorry. I– <em>ugh</em>. I’m an idiot.” He laughed weakly, standing with some effort and helping her to her feet. In turn she offered him her arm, which he took. “You’re a bloody saint for putting up with me,” he told her with a shake of his head. “I upset you. I didn’t even mean to…and you’re <em>still</em> trying to help.”</p><p>She smiled slightly. “Of course I am,” she told him. “You– you’re insufferable, and reckless, and selfish, and an arrogant, obsessive fool, and you’ve a terrible temper, but–” She shook her head and looked away. “You’re also brilliant, and creative, and passionate, and– and you may not think it true, but you have compassion in you, real courage and compassion.” She looked back at him, managing a real smile at his stunned expression. “You are a great engineer, Nero, and a good man, even if you don’t think so. And I can see the potential for you to be a great man, too.”</p><p>He blinked at her a moment. “If you say so…” He said finally, shaking his head with a small, disbelieving – but flattered – smile on his face. “Now, let’s…let’s get back to Idyllshire, shall we?” He asked. “I’m hungry. What say you?”</p><p>“I am, too,” she told him, smiling back. “And Nero?” She said, and he looked back at her. “You’ll find your way. I’ll help, if I can…if you’ll let me.”</p><p>He blinked at her, and then chuckled. “Of course I’ll let you,” he told her. “Not like I can stop you, anyway. Suppose we’ll help each other, since you’re having trouble with yours. Mm?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she replied, laughing softly. “Sounds good. Now, come on. You need your bandages changed, too.”</p><p>He snorted at that, and the two of them helped each other back to the settlement, bickering companionably about Nero’s injuries. Something had changed between them, a bond formed; a friendship, perhaps. Whatever it was, they knew they could trust the other. Lean on them. They were both strangers in a strange land, feeling out of place. But they could be out of place together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've had these written and posted on my RP blog for 5 years, haha. I figured, since Nero deserves more love and this WoL of mine does too, I'd clean them up and post them. There was, uh, way too much oversharing in the first draft. This is good, though. </p><p>Nero is an idiot for a genius, and you can't tell me he had an easy time of it after running off post Crystal Tower, okay? You can't. He absolutely had a rough start and the Void did not help, and that's something I'm stuck on.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When she teleported into Idyllshire, the settlement was quiet. Asleep; even the goblins were all sleeping, their machines silent. She knew how late it was, but…she couldn’t sleep. It had been a bad day for her; she wasn’t sure why, it just…she had been restless, uncomfortable, and jittery all day, and she found herself unable to sleep.</p>
<p>So she found herself in Idyllshire, walking towards the building that housed the infirmary. It had  been a week since her confrontation with Nero that resulted in her revealing to him her past, and she had been by a few more times – they had grown oddly companionable, the Garlean able to draw out reactions and emotions from her that few could these days, getting her to laugh and raise her voice in frustration and embarrassment with ease, and in turn, she seemed to bring a sense of calm to the man, relaxing him and giving him a sense of equilibrium he’d been missing.</p>
<p>But he didn’t sleep well, if at all, either, she knew, so she thought he would still be awake. He could keep her company, at the very least.</p>
<p>When she walked through the doors, it was quiet, but as she approached his room, she thought she heard noises. She paused before the door, easing it open to peer inside, and paused. He was in bed, she noted, blankets twisted around him and pillow half on the floor – and before her eyes, he shifted, moaning and moving his arm as if to fend something off.</p>
<p>He’s having a nightmare, she realized, and stepped forward, letting the door shut softly behind her and hurried to his bedside, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him gently.</p>
<p>“Nero,” she called. “Nero, wake up.” She shook him again, a few more times, before his eyes shot open, wide and panicked, and his hands came up sharply, shoving her away.</p>
<p>She stumbled back, watching him scramble into a position pressed against the wall his bed was up against and staring at her with eyes that, she realized, weren’t seeing her at all. They were somewhere else, and it didn’t take a genius to know where.</p>
<p>“Nero,” she said softly, as if speaking to a spooked animal. “It’s alright. You’re safe. This isn’t the Void. You’re alright.” She moved forward slowly, keeping her eyes locked on his as he started to calm himself, and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently take his hands in hers. They were so much bigger than hers, she noted, callused and streaked with burns and cuts, the nails worn down to the quick. Hers wrapped around them, dark to his pale, black scales on the backs of them. She felt suddenly under-dressed, clad only in her camise and a pair of tights as she was, her arms completely bare.</p>
<p>“Breathe for me,” she asked him, never taking her eyes off his. “Here, hold my hands, put fingers on my wrists. Feel my heartbeat. Listen to my breathing, match yours to mine. It’ll help, I promise.”</p>
<p>He nodded slightly, swallowing and letting his eyes slide shut, attempting to regulate his breathing. She followed suit, closing her own eyes and listening to their breaths, the fast staccato of his heart and the slower pace of her own. His evened out eventually, and she smiled, listening to their heartbeats match and sync up, their breathing following, and to her, for a moment, it sounded like there was only one person in the room.</p>
<p>She opened her eyes to find him watching her, and she smiled a little wider. “Did that help?” She asked, and he nodded. “Good…are you alright?”</p>
<p>He blinked, and then let out a soft, shaky laugh. “No,” he told her. “No, I’m not.”</p>
<p>“Do you want to talk about it?” The question escaped her before she could think, and she laughed softly. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t. I just–”</p>
<p>He cut her off. “I don’t,” he said, and his expression was unreadable. “But I will.” A slight smile flickered. “Because you told me a great deal, without meaning to. It’s only fair I tell you something in return.”</p>
<p>She saw in his eyes that he knew, as well as she did, that it was only a flimsy excuse; he wanted to tell her, needed to tell her, to talk about it, and the reasoning spoken aloud was solely to preserve dignity. Not that he had much left, she noted; he hadn’t shaved yet, or fixed his hair, and he still had bandages around his abdomen and shadows under his eyes. He looked terrible, and she could tell he was haunted. If only she could ease his burden…if that meant listening, then she would.</p>
<p>She nodded, and he started talking, hesitantly at first but then gaining speed. “I– the Void. I go back there, in my dreams. Nightmares. It’s– it feels so real. Like I’m still there. Like I never left, or– or that it left a part of itself in me, and I’m…and it’s still in me.” He shuddered. “It’s dark, and– and cold. Colder than anything, and– you were only in there a short time, you don’t– you don’t know what it’s really like.  Dark, and cold, like the very atmosphere sucked out all the warmth from the world, and nothing can make it come back. A-And all you can think about, when you’re not fighting for your life, is everything bad. Nothing good– you can’t…you can’t remember the good things. Only the bad. And it doesn’t stop. You’re either fighting to survive or fighting the demons in your head. A-And it gets to the point where if you don’t have something to- to focus on, you’ll stop. Give up. You have to– you have to have something–” He choked off, shaking his head. “You have to have something to– to hold onto. Or you’ll lose yourself. For me it was…it was the twins. Protecting them. I– I just told myself if I could keep them alive, then…then maybe I’ll have done <em>one</em> worthwhile thing.” His voice cracked. “Maybe I’ll have <em>one thing </em>I can be proud of when I die.”</p>
<p>“Nero…” She whispered, giving his hands an unconscious squeeze, understanding how he felt. “But…” She began. “You’ve done so much. Your accomplishments…they’re incredible. Ultima, everything else…you’re brilliant. How can you be worthless?” She knew she struggled with her own sense of worth, but Nero? Brilliant, passionate Nero, who restored the Ultima Weapon? There was no way.</p>
<p>He stared at her for a long moment, and then a small laugh escaped him, weak and shaky. “Do I really– do you really think so?” He asked, shaking his head. “I don’t…you heard me, in the Praetorium. Next to Cid…I’m worthless. I’ve always been. Everything I’ve done…was in his shadow. It– it wasn’t his fault. It was…gods, it took me nearly two decades to figure that out, that it wasn’t. But…it’s still true. I’m second. I’ll always be second.” He shook his head, and his voice, when he next spoke, was nearly inaudible, and she had to strain to hear him. “…And to <em>him</em>, second is as good as failure.”</p>
<p>“…Him?” She asked, her brow furrowing. He startled, as if he hadn’t realized he’d said that aloud, and looked up at her--- and she froze. The look in his eyes…it was so foreign on his face she almost couldn’t believe she was seeing it. It was a child’s pain, a child’s fear. The mask slipping, and the only thing behind it a child, a haunted little boy.</p>
<p>He smiled, and there was so much pain in it she winced, biting her lip. “My father,” he managed, his voice cracking. “My father. He…Lord Scaeva. A-Albinus goe Scaeva. He…expects perfection. Nothing less. My brothers were…a warrior, a-a diplomat, a spy. I was…I wasn’t. I was never…I was never what he wanted. He wanted a soldier. I just…I just wanted to build things.” He laughed shakily. “Back then, all I-I wanted was…was to make something <em>great</em>. Something…that would help others. An airship, a-a <em>dozen</em> airships. A way for Garleans to use magic, because <em>I</em> wanted to use magic. And I thought I would do it with Cid.” He shook his head. “Father…Father didn’t approve. Never approved. I was never good enough. Never worth anything. Never– Never destined for greatness. Or perfection. A-And that meant I was a failure. F-Falling short, even by ilms, meant…meant utter failure.”</p>
<p>She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “He– he would---,” he began, sounding very small, but his voice died; even so, the way he flinched in on himself...he shook his head, laughing bitterly, and continued. “The– the year I entered the Academy, I– he– he told me, if I failed, if I didn’t– if I wasn’t perfect, he would…he would– I wouldn’t be a Scaeva.” The memories are still fresh, even two and a half decades later. “The– the only reason he didn’t make good on that threat is because Cid left.”</p>
<p>He stopped talking, and she watched him fold in on himself, head bowed and shoulders shaking. “I only proved him right,” he whispered. “Ultima…failed. The Tower…all I did was nearly die. Cid is a legend…I’m nothing. I’m not…I’m nothing. I have no great achievements, no legacy. No one will remember me. He was right. He was…he was right. I am…a disappointment. A failure.” There’s a weak laugh and she heard tears in it. “What…what am I?”</p>
<p>“You’re brilliant,” she told him, before she can catch herself. “You’re Cid’s equal. You’re the man who restored an ancient Allagan superweapon, and made it better, in a matter of a couple years. You’re the man who knows more about the Allagan Empire than likely your whole country. You’re the man who survived <em>six moons</em> in the Void, with little more than the armor on your back and a stubborn streak. You reverse engineered Allagan technology with nothing but information in tomestones, and it <em>worked</em>. You reprogrammed that ADS for <em>fun</em>. You’re creative, and passionate, and–” Her eyes widened. “Nero, you helped save the <em>world</em>. You protected the twins, and it was because you did so that they were able to stop the Cloud of Darkness. You <em>are</em> important. You’re Cid’s best friend. You’re my friend. You mean something to us, and– kami, I sound like a hypocrite.” She laughed weakly. “But you…you’re worth so much more. You have so much to give, so much knowledge and experience. You have skills people can <em>use</em>, you can help Cid, you can help so many people. You can do what you always wanted. It’s not too late for you.”</p>
<p>She didn’t realize until she trailed off that at some point during her speech he’d started crying, silent tears tracking down his face as he stared at her. There was silence, and then he let go of her hands, pulling her into a hug. She returned the gesture, feeling the bandages around his chest beneath her bare arms, and she couldn’t help but notice he smelled faintly of firesand and a sharp, bitter odor she vaguely knew as ceruleum. Even now, he smelled like that? It almost made her smile into his shoulder.</p>
<p>He let go and she moved back, and she found him grabbing her upper arms, staring at her intently. “You– you say it like it’s too late for you,” he said, his voice a little rough. “You’re a bloody Warrior of Light. You <em>save</em> people. Even– even if you lose a few, how many have you saved? How many eikons have you defeated? You took down the XIVth, you destroyed Ultima, you were the one that defeated Xande and the Cloud in the first place. You– you told me what happened with the Archbishop – you stopped him. You killed a great bloody dragon and ended a thousand-year long war. You– you have people relying on you. Friends, allies, those Scions and all three – <em>four</em> – bloody city-states. How in the name of the Twelve are you of <em>any</em> less worth than you say I am?”</p>
<p>“I–” She began, and shakes her head with a weak laugh. “I’m a hypocrite,” she repeated. “You…you have so much to give. You have your mind, your talent for creation. All I do…all I do is kill.” She smiled weakly. “My gift is death. That’s all I can give anyone. Death…I kill. I kill for the ones I love. I have nothing to give but that…you have so much more.”</p>
<p>“And the things I’ve created the past decade have all been weapons,” he replied sharply, his voice still intense. “My hands are just as red as yours. Don’t think you’re the only one who’s killed, Alan. What I’ve created has <em>destroyed</em>. I don’t know if I can make anything else anymore.”</p>
<p>“You <em>can</em>,” she told him firmly. “You can. I…my hands don’t know how to hold anything but blades, Nero. Yours holds <em>tools</em>. You can do <em>anything</em> with them, you can <em>create</em> anything. All I create is death.” She shook her head. “It’s in my name. Shinui, the name I gave myself. It means ‘death weaver’. A weaver of the tapestry called death, knives as needles. That’s–”</p>
<p>He snorted. “See, but you’re biased. You gave yourself that name,” he pointed out softly, leaning down a little to stare at her. “What creates can also destroy; what destroys can also create. It’s a fundamental law. There’s a give and take in everything. You just haven’t found what you have to give.”</p>
<p>There was a silence as they stared at each other, and she could hear her heart beating furiously loud, eyes unable to look away from his face, his eyes, his…mouth? Oh, kami, what was wrong with her! Was– was he leaning in? She couldn’t move, and she found herself leaning in as well, heart pounding…</p>
<p>And then a loud peal of thunder rang out, a deafening crash, and the pair of them jumped apart fast enough to send Nero banging against the wall and Alan nearly tumbling off the bed.</p>
<p>They stared at each other a long moment, and burst into laughter, looking away red-faced and embarrassed; the tension had broken, though, and she looked out the small window at the sky, which had opened up into pouring rain. “I…don’t think I’m leaving soon,” she said, and was startled to catch his hand wrapping gently around her forearm.</p>
<p>“I…was going to ask you to stay,” he admitted. “I…I think I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight; I’ve never– you know, told anyone. What I told you. It’s…”</p>
<p>She cut him off, smiling. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll stay.” She paused, and they stared at each other awkwardly a moment, before she laughed quietly. “Y-You mean…here?” She asked.</p>
<p>“I…when I was a kid, when either of us had a nightmare, my little sister and I used to–” He began shyly, and she nodded, catching on. That…that made it less awkward. A little. </p>
<p>“Okay,” she told him, shifting to get under the covers next to him. “Now go to sleep.”</p>
<p>It didn’t take long, surprisingly; within minutes the two had fallen asleep, her head on his chest and his arm draped around her. It was a peaceful sleep for both of them, even with the awkward awakening. Then again, she went about her day in a much better mood, and even he felt a little lighter. </p>
<p>Another connection had been made, another bond formed between them. Out of place, doubting their own worth, but they had each other – someone who felt the same, someone who couldn’t see their own worth but believed the other worth so much more. They were connected by that, by the secrets of each other’s past they kept for them, the only ones who knew. And perhaps by something else beginning to form, something sparked in those silent moments before the rain.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Introducing my assload of headcanon I like to call "Nero's Family Sucks".</p>
<p>From the start, with his Prae speech and his behavior, I never once doubted that Nero had a terrible family situation--- it read to me that way almost immediately, and struck me so strongly it never changed; and nothing's said he didn't, so...</p>
<p>Besides his (perfectionist dick) father, I headcanon Nero has three older brothers (Ennius, Marius, and Valens) and a little sister (Lucilia). I know a lot of this <em>is</em> headcanon, but...bear with me, alright?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next time she visited after the night she slept over was a week or so later – Aymeric had asked her help with a matter in the Western Highlands, and it had occupied much of her time. She’d had a rather embarrassing moment when a yeti had caught her by surprise, knocking her into a nearby pond; she’d gotten absolutely drenched, and was shivering badly by the time she got back to Falcon’s Nest. She told them to let her be, though, and headed back out to finish her mission without pause – it had finished a success, and now she had time to pay Nero a visit.</p>
<p>Nero…she’d had him on her mind of late; really, she couldn’t get him out of it. That night…the moment they’d shared – that fleeting moment that lasted an eternity, staring into each others’ eyes with hearts in throats, very nearly kissing…it was terrifying to think about. The morning she’d woken up having dreamed about that moment was when she knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.</p>
<p>The feelings the memory brought up, he brought up…his presence was like a fire to feed off of, bringing her to life. She could relax, laugh, smile, shout in frustration, feel, and…a shinobi was not supposed to display emotion, and she’d gotten so used to that, but around him, it was so easy to do so. And…she’d seen beneath his mask, to the man underneath. The man who struggled to feel like he was worth something, struggled with failure, struggled with a painful childhood and struggled with feeling alone. All struggles she knew well, and she wanted to be with him, to help him through them – because she saw the fire in his heart, and she wanted to make him see it too, see what she saw. She wanted…she wanted him in her life.</p>
<p>She didn’t want to think about it or what it could mean, though – it was impossible, and she absolutely refused to entertain the notion – so she pushed it out of her mind. She’d sworn she’d never feel that way again, not about anyone. And especially not about him. </p>
<p>She stumbled a little when she got to Idyllshire, shaking her head slightly to clear the slight fog that had settled in it. She must be tired, that’s all. She headed down to the infirmary, contemplating this and that; mainly whether or not she should hold him down and give him the shave he so desperately needed. She was worried, honestly, especially with what he’d told her the last time they’d spoken. He hadn’t been bothering to take care of himself since she’d brought him to Idyllshire, and even before that. He hadn’t eaten all that much, or cleaned up, and she worried.</p>
<p>She opened the door to the building and had to pause a moment, shaking off another wave of dizziness before continuing to his room. “Nero?” She called, opening the door, and for the second time, she froze in the doorway. This time, though, it was for a very different reason.</p>
<p>The man turned, running a hand through his still-damp, newly cut hair, and looked surprised to see her. He was clean-shaven again, and it made him look much healthier, save for some hollowness still in his cheeks and shadows still under his eyes. He was dressed, too, and not in worn, ill-fitting borrowed clothes, but an outfit that Alan recognized as the machinists’ gear sold by Rowena for tomestones. She wondered momentarily how he’d gotten it, but that thought was derailed when he turned fully, and her brain decided to shut down all thoughts but the ones that were marveling at how <em>good </em>the outfit looked on him, and how much better he looked cleaned up, and oh. <em>Oh, no</em>. </p>
<p>“Alan?” He asked, and then grinned – oh <em>no</em>, she thought desperately, <em>stop </em>that – before walking over to stand in front of her, looking down. “Was wondering where you got off to. What do you think? Finally decided to get up off my arse and do something around here,” he told her with a snort. “That Rowena woman is a taskmaster, but I did something right, clearly, since she let me have this.” He gestures at his shirt.</p>
<p>She managed a smile. “It looks nice,” she told him, blinking suddenly and touching a hand to her forehead, and he frowned. </p>
<p>“Alan, are you alright?” He asked. “You…huh, you actually look like hell. What happened?”</p>
<p>She shook her head. “It’s…I’m alright,” she replied, waving her free hand dismissively. “It’s just a dizzy spell, it will p–” She stopped talking, her voice trailing off as her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor in a boneless heap.</p>
<p>“Alan!” Nero yelped, dropping to his knees to check on her, pulling her into his lap and yanking one of his gloves off with his teeth to press a hand to her forehead. “Bloody hells, you’re burning up,” he said, eyes wide. “And you call <em>me</em> reckless, how long have you been ill?!”</p>
<p>Alan just moaned quietly, eyes fluttering open. “Mm…?” She mumbled. “It’s…nothing, I…I just got wet in Coerthas…s'okay…gotta finish…my work…” Her head lolled to the side and rested against his chest, and his frown deepened.</p>
<p>“Like I said, you call <em>me</em> reckless?” He asked, frustrated. “Coerthas is an icy wasteland, and you went and got wet? And didn’t bother to take care of yourself? Bloody hells.” He picked her up, and she moaned again.</p>
<p>He paused, looking down at her in his arms. She was so small compared to him, and her flushed, feverish face added to that made her look so fragile, like a doll. His brow furrowed, and he moved to gently place her on his bed, where she curled up, whimpering. He swallowed, moving to put a hesitant hand on her arm. “Hey…” He said. “Do you, ah– do you have anything else to put on? What you’re in is probably too warm for you right now…”</p>
<p>She nodded weakly, and he stepped back. “I’ll go talk to one of the chirurgeons,” he said quickly, spinning on his heel and heading out of the room nearly at a run, managing to get halfway down the hall before leaning against the wall with a frustrated exhale. What was <em>wrong</em> with him? She was his friend, that was all. Why was looking at her flustering him? His mind went back to the other night, when she’d stayed over, and how they had almost– he shook his head, growling in annoyance. No. Not likely.</p>
<p>He stood, hurrying to talk to a healer, and came back into the room a short while later with a bowl of water with ice crystals to keep it cold and a cloth, putting it down on the bedside table before looking back at her and stopping mid-motion. She had changed like he suggested, leaving her gear in a pile on the floor, and was curled up on the bed in nothing but a hempen camise and pantalettes, a loose sleeveless top and shorts exposing most of her arms and legs. She looked so tiny out of her armor, and her scars stood out dark against her skin, crisscrossing her limbs. Her hair was messy against the pillow, dark burgundy strands fanned out under her head, and her cheeks were flushed with fever, her opalescent eyes half-lidded and unfocused.</p>
<p>He tore his eyes away from her after a long moment of staring, breath caught in his throat at the sight – she looked so small and delicate, as if a touch would shatter her, so different from the Warrior of Light he knew. But he remembered what she’d told him, and perhaps that fragility wasn’t so foreign. He shook his head to clear it, and dipped the cloth in the water, gently turning her to lie on her back so he could place the cool, damp cloth on her forehead. She let out a soft exhale, and her hand found his, giving it a weak squeeze.</p>
<p>He squeezed it back, and smiled awkwardly. “I’ll be right back,” he told her. “I’m going to get you some food.” He disappeared out the door again, negotiating with some of the healers to get something for her to eat, and came back carrying a warm bowl of frumenty and a jug of apple juice; he wasn’t sure if it was alright, but the healer had given it to him, so he’d trust they knew how to take care of someone ill.</p>
<p>He pulled a chair over to her bedside with a foot and sat down, reaching to dip the cloth in water again and replace it on her forehead. Her eyes flickered open, and focused briefly on his face, and she smiled slightly. “Hi,” she mumbled. “Y'r gonna…take care ‘f me? Thanks…”</p>
<p>“Don’t mention it,” he replied automatically, leaning to help her sit up slightly. “I brought some food, do you think you can keep it down?” She nodded weakly, and tried to reach for the bowl, only for her hands to droop back down almost immediately, no strength in them. Nero sighed, biting his lip, before patting her hand. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “Just try not to fall asleep, mm?”</p>
<p>He hadn’t done this…<em>ever</em>, really, and it was marginally embarrassing, but there was something so breakable about her, that it moved him to…to something. He didn’t like seeing her like this, exposed and out of it. So he’d help her get better as best he could. Even if that included feeding her a bowl of frumenty and helping her get down a glass of juice.</p>
<p>After he was sure she wasn’t going to throw up, he helped her lie down again, pulling the blankets around her and tucking her in. She smiled at him tiredly, shifting, and lifted a hand to brush fingers along his jawline. “’M…glad y'r here,” she mumbled. “Y'r…’m glad y'r…better. I was worried…”</p>
<p>He felt his cheeks grow hot despite himself, and he reached up to give her hand a squeeze. “I…figured it was about time to stop feeling sorry for myself and try,” he admitted. “…Talking to you…it helped.” He looked away, feeling like a foolish teenager when the smile she gave him made him flush deeper.</p>
<p>She didn’t reply, and he glanced back at her to see she’d fallen asleep, her hand limp in his. He let go, putting it back on the bed and wrapping the blankets around her, reaching to get the cloth damp again.</p>
<p>He hesitated before putting it back on, staring at her sleeping form, so small and delicate. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who felled over a dozen primals and defeated the XIVth. Seeing her like this, remembering what she’d told him…she was so…so fragile. He’d seen her armor off, first figurative and now literal, and underneath she was barely holding herself together, all scars and guilt and sorrow. And he…he understood some of her pain. He felt it himself – or dealt with a version of it. But he understood feeling like an outcast. He understood doubting your own worth.</p>
<p>Before he could stop himself, he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead for a brief moment before replacing the damp cloth, sitting back in his chair to watch her.</p>
<p>He hated to admit it – it was so rare, so…he’d only felt this way about one other person before, in all his thirty-four years, it was a terrifying thought to realize that these feelings were there – but they were. He didn’t know what the hell to do with them, but they were there. She made him feel…calm. Relaxed in her presence. She made him feel like the praise she gave him was almost believable, almost true. She…he wanted to be with her. Just sit with her, a companionable silence, knowing she was there and that she cared, genuinely cared. And it was so strange, so foreign to feel this way about anyone, even the other he’d felt this for– it was different.</p>
<p>His eyes slid shut eventually, and he drifted off in the chair by the bed, a small, faint smile on his face. The feelings could wait; he’d address them eventually. </p>
<p>They both would.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Keep in mind that I did write this one before 3.56, okay? XD But really, wouldn't you want to see Nero in the MCH AF?</p>
<p>Some awkwardness aside, at least they're both kind of aware of their own feelings? Kind of? They're idiots okay, they're trying.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thankfully, Alan’s fever had broken by the next afternoon, and by the day after, she’d left Idyllshire to go rest elsewhere--- she was lucky it hadn’t been too bad, she knew, and luckier still that...that she’d been somewhere to be taken care of when it hit her. That Nero had caught her as he had, refused to let her run off. Kami only knew what would have happened had she passed out in the middle of the Hinterlands or somewhere worse.</p>
<p>Nero...he’d sat with her until her fever broke. He really hadn’t had to do that, especially given he’d been up and about. Not to mention he didn’t seem the type to nursemaid anyone; he seemed the type --- he <em>was</em> the type, she knew --- to escape his own sickbed the moment backs were turned, at that. And yet he’d....</p>
<p>If it had been bad before, now she <em>really</em> couldn’t get him out of her mind. Stupid handsome frustrating genius idiot. </p>
<p>She had considered avoiding him, then, but...something in her couldn’t bring herself to. Knowing his troubles, knowing his nightmares...she couldn’t just vanish on him. She didn’t want to upset him, given he’d already started to pull himself together, be his usual obnoxious self again. Even so, it was...it was driving her crazy, truthfully. Even if she admitted to herself she had feelings for him --- which at some point she knew she had to do --- it...what was she supposed to <em>do</em> about it? The last time she’d had feelings for anyone, they’d...it...maybe it wasn’t the same this time, but even so, it…</p>
<p>Well. She wasn’t going to think about it. Not at all. </p>
<p>It had been a moon or two since her bout of illness, and she’d visited Idyllshire several times since then, spending time with Nero. he’d made himself rather indispensable about the settlement, helping with this and that and making a general nuisance of himself arguing with any goblin that so much as looked at him askance --- she knows he’d even threatened one with a wrench once if they took once step closer to what he was repairing --- but...he definitely seemed to be his old self again. It was...nice. Comforting, to hear him going on and on to her about how <em>goblins mutilated everything they touched, just look at the poor vanguards, what had they done, his poor babies, he shudders to think what else they’ve turned into such atrocities against proper engineering, </em>even as it made her laugh--- there was something very...endearing about it now. She wasn’t certain why Cid hated it so much. There was something very alive about him, alive and full of passion. And he was entertaining, too.</p>
<p>She could do without the puns, though, but she supposed she’d get used to it.</p>
<p>( Get used to it---? Oh, kami preserve her…)</p>
<p>Today she arrived with a gift for him, gathered up gently in her arms: a few tomestones, new ones. She had spare from having to hand the bulk of them over to Rowena (she owned the lot of them, didn’t she, that harpy), and...well. Nero could put them to far better use, she supposed.</p>
<p>Maybe it would distract him from Alexander moving again and the escapade within it that was sure to follow...? Oh, she certainly hoped so.</p>
<p>She startled, though, when she entered the room--- thankfully not enough to freeze her in place, this time, but still a surprise. Nero was in his traveling clothes, the ones she’d met him in (cleaned and repaired by someone in the settlement, clearly), and was fiddling with a pack. “...Nero?” She asked, vaguely concerned and a little...a little upset, maybe? She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t like it. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Oh!” He startled himself, dropping whatever he’d been shoving into his pack onto the bed, and blinking at her. “Oh, hello, Alan! Perfect timing, really, I was hoping you would drop by soon.” he grinned at her, that mischievous crooked thing she’d grown fond of, and she managed a tiny smile back. “Isn’t it obvious what I’m doing? I’m packing.”</p>
<p>“...yes, well, that part I can see,” she said, moving to perch on the bed beside him as he stopped what he was doing and leaned against it to speak to her. “But why?”</p>
<p>“Can’t stay here forever,” he said with a shrug. “One can only fix so many pipes and--- and goblin-made offenses to my very soul before one goes mad, and...I’m fast approaching that point.” He paused, and pointed at her accusingly. “Ah-- no jokes about my sanity, you hear? Been there, done that, heard them all, we’re not having that debate.”</p>
<p>She laughed, shaking her head. “I wasn’t going to,” she said innocently, but then her face fell slightly. “...what about Alexander?” She ventured. “Isn’t that what you came here for in the first place?”</p>
<p>“Besides the fact that I had assumed if you thought I had intentions towards that particular adventure you’d be tying me down to the bed right now?” He asked her dryly, which got her to snort and give him a look, mostly because it wasn’t exactly untrue. “It…” He sighed and looked away, crossing his arms. “It’s <em>Garlond’s</em> project. Were I to join in, it...once again, it would be the same thing. In his shadow, following his lead. Whether or not I hold a grudge doesn’t matter; I won’t let that continue.”</p>
<p>He patted his pack with a quiet hum, glancing back towards her. “Thus, I’m off-- there’s got to be something for me and me alone, after all. Something that will <em>really</em> knock his socks off,” he added with a grin. “Oh, Nero, you utter genius, how could I have <em>possibly</em> been so oblivious, of course you’re better than me, he’ll say, and it will be hilarious and well worth it, and I’ll have bloody well earned it this time.” </p>
<p>“...well,” she said after a moment, smiling -- though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m glad to hear all that, really. That you’re up to trying again. You’ve...been through a lot, I know, so--- I wish you all the best of luck.” She paused. “Though be <em>careful</em>,” she warned. “Don’t end up nearly eaten by a morbol or worse, alright?”</p>
<p>“I’ll take care of myself, I promise,” he reassured her with a laugh. “I <em>was</em> a Tribunus, after all! I may have, ah...fallen down on the job, before, but I know my way around a fight.” He hesitated, and then reached out to pat her shoulder almost hesitantly, awkward and quick, and jerked it away before he could he could linger too long. “Really. No need to fuss.”</p>
<p>“I’m always going to fuss,” Alan told him without thinking, before blinking and trying not to flush in embarrassment. Oh kami, why did---? She sighed, though, looking away and down at the small pile of tomestones in her arms still, before pushing them at him. “...here,” she said quietly. “I’d brought these for you. Maybe...one of them will have a place to start.”</p>
<p>“Oooh!” He hummed in delight, taking the tomestones from her and tucking them away in his pack with a happy little noise. “Lovely, that is, I’ll be sure to look through them. Lucky you were able to keep some, I know that Rowena woman hoards them like she’s some sort of--- I don’t know, a faerie-tale dragon. What does she even <em>do</em> with them, can you imagine all that knowledge and some mad businesswoman is just...<em>sitting</em> on it all?” He huffed. “Ridiculous, if you ask me. Stage a revolution, you lot, or something. Down with the monopoly on...on <em>clothes</em>, or what have you, I don’t know what she milks you those for.”</p>
<p>He paused, though, trailing off, and frowned--- and though it took her by surprise, she realized he must have noticed her mood. “...what is it?” He asked finally, reaching to hesitantly tug at her sleeve. “You’ve been pouting this whole time. What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“...you’re leaving,” Alan admitted finally, face coloring despite herself, and she shifted to draw her legs to her chest and bury her face in them, trying to hide how embarrassed she was, how stupid she felt for this. “I won’t...I won’t see you again. Not for a while, at least. I...” She huffed out a breath and let out a muffled curse in Doman. “...will you keep in touch?” She asked, hating how much she sounded like she was begging. “Please…?”</p>
<p>“...Alan,” Nero managed after a moment, voice slightly--- off, somehow, and eventually she felt him put an arm around her shoulders. “...I didn’t realize you would be so put out by it. I...” He trailed off, and after a moment she thought she heard him mutter a swear of his own, and then his other arm came around her to tug her into a proper hug, halfway on his lap, and his head tucked itself into her hair. “...I’ll keep in touch,” he said finally. “I promise.”</p>
<p>There was silence, then, not quite companionable but not at all awkward, and eventually Alan put her hand over one of his. “...Nero?” She began, hesitantly, and tilted her head up to look at him. “I…” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, not really; what was she going to say? She wanted to <em>say</em> something, she wanted to tell him...<em>something</em>, but she couldn’t put it into words, couldn’t find the words to even begin to---</p>
<p>And then he kissed her.</p>
<p>It wasn’t the best kiss in the world, awkwardly angled and hesitant and embarrassed and a little too quick, but it still was one, and he pulled back with his face as red as his old armor, stammering awkwardly a few times before he managed any coherent words. “Ah--- I--- that is to say--- I mean--- if that wasn’t what--- ah, <em>bugger---</em>” </p>
<p>He buried his face in a hand, and for a moment Alan couldn’t speak, but--- then she started laughing. She regretted it when she saw him flinch, but she gently tugged his hand off his face and leaned up to kiss him again, a little less awkwardly this time but just as quick and nervous, before leaning against his chest. “Don’t worry,” she told him, lips twitching. “We’re on the same page.”</p>
<p>“Oh, thank your gods!” Nero managed with a laugh of his own, hugging her properly. “I can’t bloody well believe I did that! I’ve <em>never---</em> I didn’t--- <em>gah</em>, that’s on the list of top ten most ridiculous things I’ve ever done. Which is <em>saying</em> something, mind.”</p>
<p>Alan laughed again, finding something almost buoyant in her chest. “It is, isn’t it?” She said. “I can’t believe you did that, either. I didn’t think…” She sighed. “Well, I’m glad you did. I don’t know that I would have brought myself to say anything if you hadn’t…” She reached up to tug at the one strand of hair that refused to stay pushed back with the rest. “Your recklessness saved both of us a lot of time and stress.”</p>
<p>“For once,” Nero said, grinning. “Thankfully, you’re not quite so dense as---” He stopped there, and groaned, and buried his head in her hair again, and Alan blinked, before suddenly realizing something that made...a lot of things make sense.</p>
<p>“Oh,” she said, patting him. “Cid-<em>san</em>? Really?”</p>
<p>He groaned, his voice muffled. “...since we were <em>thirteen</em>,” he admitted finally. “Bloody stupid dense <em>idiot</em>. I’ve given up at this point. Which is...”</p>
<p>“...which is,” she echoed, and leaned in closer to him. “I’m sorry he’s like that,” she told him with a faint smile. “But...at least I’m not <em>quite</em> so oblivious, mm?” She did feel sorry for Nero, if he’d had a crush on him for that long and he was...well, like that. And it was obvious he was, if he hadn’t even realized Nero’s <em>struggles---</em> there was no <em>way</em> he’d have realized the other man had feelings for him, too! At least she was….oh. Well. Alright, so it was just now processing they’d just all but confessed to one another, and she felt her face go hot again, but she managed a smile and poked his nose as she looked up at him. “So...you <em>will</em> keep in touch, yes?”</p>
<p>“...well, I have even more reason to, now, don’t I?” He pointed out, smiling. “Not in the least because you’d like as not hunt me down and shake me by the lapels if I didn’t. I...” He hesitated, and then ran a hand through her hair. “I won’t let you feel alone, Alan. That much I know I can do.”</p>
<p>“...likewise,” Alan told him. “I’ll keep in touch as much as I can. Make sure you...make sure you’re doing alright. Make sure you aren’t alone. You need to hear someone’s voice besides your own on occasion, after all.” She smiled at him. “Whatever it is you end up doing, I know it will succeed. I know <em>you</em> will succeed. And I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it, Nero. I believe in you.”</p>
<p>He flushed at that, smiling awkwardly, and leaned against her. “...tell me a few dozen more times, and maybe it might begin to stick,” he told her. “And either way, I like hearing it.” He toyed with her hair a bit. “And I’ll remind <em>you</em>, Alan, that I know you can be more than what you think you are. Trust me, I’m an engineer. We know these things.”</p>
<p>“Of course you do,” she told him, flushing faintly again. “I…hm,” she hums. “...I had an Echo of you, once,” she murmured thoughtfully. “In the Sylphlands. What was it you said there? <em>Though it mean bringing down the very heavens…?</em>”</p>
<p>“<em>...who shall challenge the limits of possibility if not we?”</em> He finished, a smile settling on his face. “He always did used to say that. Took it to heart, I did. Or...I tried to, at any rate.” He sighed. “Forgot it for a bit, though. But…”</p>
<p>“But don’t forget it again,” she told him. “...well, alright, please don’t <em>actually</em> bring the heavens down, we had enough of that five years ago. But metaphorically speaking...I’d love to see you do just that, Nero. I know you can.”</p>
<p>Her gentle tease got a snort out of him, but he reached out and put a hand on her cheek hesitantly. “...I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations,” he told her softly. “Yours...yours I think I can manage. They’re not so bad. And anyway, I---” He flushed. “At the risk of sounding utterly ridiculous and like I just coughed out a trashy romance novel--- I don’t need to <em>actually</em> bring them down. Not when they’re right here already.” He flushed deeper as she did. “I-I mean. Stars in your eyes, and all that nonsense. Ugh, that really did sound <em>awful</em>.” He smiled faintly all the same. “I do mean it, though. You said your family hated them? That’s nonsense. They really do look like stars, and I...I like them quite a bit.” </p>
<p>“...oh,” she managed. “I…” No one had ever complimented them like that before, and to hear it from Nero, it...she impulsively leaned up to kiss him again, and smiled. “Thank you. I’ll try to remember you said that. Stars, huh…? That...that makes them sound much nicer.”</p>
<p>They remained silent, after that, sitting together quietly--- Alan still couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, but it...it had felt so natural. Still did. Like their relationship hadn’t changed at all, only...they’d just admitted what had been there for some time already. It warmed her chest, honestly, warmed her heart. She’d never been...she’d never thought...well. This is what she had now, and she wouldn’t give it up. She couldn’t believe it was him, of all people, and yet--- and yet she couldn’t imagine it being anyone else.</p>
<p>She wiggled free from his embrace eventually, though, kissing him one last time before putting her hands on her hips. “Well?” She said. “Get going already. Your great work won’t create itself, after all!”</p>
<p>He laughed, standing and checking his bag before picking it up. “True enough, true enough. Let’s get me a way to stay in touch with you, and then I’ll be off. Innovation waits for no man, you know!”</p>
<p>Daringly, as they left the room, she grabbed his hand-- he froze a moment, but then squeezed hers back, and they kept their hands entwined as they left the building into Idyllshire proper. This was...new, and different, and kind of wonderful. And she wasn’t about to stop appreciating it. Someone who understood her, someone she understood in turn...she didn’t plan to let this go. Not this time...she wouldn’t lose this. And he wouldn’t lose her. Not a chance.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one I...actually wrote a couple days ago. Oops. I'd never finished before. But here it is! They're cute.</p>
<p>And I am so, so glad I was validated for Cid being an oblivious dumbass, I'd been saying that for literally years before now. (I will die on the hill that no matter what else, Nero has a thing for Cid. That + another ship isn't mutually exclusive after all!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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